ANARCHY
by burnedoubt
Summary: "In a society that has abolished all adventure, the only adventure left is to abolish that society." In a world where everyone is too sane to have common sense, the line between the good and the bad had never been so blurred. We have never been less binary.
1. 0

**_A/N: I own nothing except for my own characters, and some plot line bits. All the rest is creds to BBC!_**

 _A small hand reaches towards the thin flame, which has invested its basic nature and gone still. The hand, belonging to a young, four year-old girl, does not falter, even when her fingertips are enveloped in searing heat. Her brain has momentarily bypassed the human instinct to avoid pain._

 _Her mother reaches her before the flame can curl its way past the Sera's wrist._

• • •

 _Helen Blaine leans against a doorframe, watching as her now six-year-old daughter wanders the room. A blindfold is knotted over Sera's eyes, and her faintly scarred fingers are outstretched in an attempt to locate Josie Andrews, a girl from school who had invited her over for a playdate. As is the case with many mothers, Helen had been invited in for tea, and never really left._

 _Next to her, Josie's mother chatters on about the outrageously cheeky new teachers._

 _"That's not fair," Josie says angrily when her Sera reaches her hiding spot, "you didn't give me enough time. Start over."_

 _Helen chews her lip, resorting to anxiously picking at a curl of dead skin on the side of her fingernail, wondering which stunt would be enough to divert attention away from what this situation might develop into. Sera has not responded, she has instead stilled, the blindfold remaining in place over her eyes._

 _"You whine a lot."_

 _Josie's mother flicked her gaze to the woman beside her, her mouth now shut in a firm line._

 _"But it's okay, everyone else does," Sera remarks, in an attempt to gain back the favor of her new playmate._

 _Josie remains silent, a sour expression on her face, as if she's aware she's just been insulted, but she straightens her posture nevertheless. She is impatient to get the game started again._

 _Helen feels her dread receding and she offers a weak smile. Josie's mother crosses her arms, making no comment, but she is later relieved when her daughter brings home a different friend the next day._

• • •

 _It began with nicotine patches, but those were exchanged for needles quickly enough._

 _The sixteen-year-old girl pushes the front door open, greeted with a clear view through to Helen's bedroom. The woman frantically pushes a drawer shut, pale fingers trembling as she tugs her sleeve down in a flash. The woman pretends to not have seen Sera as she slams her bedroom door quickly._

• • •

 _Sera, now a young woman, does not make any movement of pride or surprise when she receives her letters of acceptance from various colleges and universities, both in Europe, and North America._

 _During her years in high school, she'd allowed her grades to drop: it wasn't her fault her teachers didn't appreciate her 'fresh point of view', as Sera often described it. Still, it appeared that colleges and universities preferred the ability to think over the ability to test._

 _Though a rather necessary trophy, Sera wasn't continuing school for the shiny new degree that would be the product of her years. No, she wanted the experience. The chance to immerse herself in something different: a cesspool of hormones and conformingly rebellious young adults. Call it a getaway. A vacation from all the fake little people and the less fake monsters which had taken root around her. She was bitterly disappointed when she arrived to find no change._

 _She had many wonderful friends at University, or at least that's the line she liked to use when a curious uncle or aunt inquired about her education. There were, of course, people she preferred to spend her time with and those she didn't, but Sera didn't like the idea of placing them under the title of "friends"._

 _These acquaintances are under the impression that they are far above Sera in their intellectual hierarchy. She is understandably irritated: it eats away at her, leaving a tangled mass of bitterness. But at the same time, Sera relishes their assumptions, for it becomes her little game, one that no one knows she's winning._

 _She completes her education with recommendations from many professors, who each endlessly recite that Sera Baine has a glittering career in psychology before her. Perhaps it is that promise that leaves her unsatisfied._

 _Perhaps that is also why she allows herself to be easily and completely ensnared with a single email:_

Dr. Baine,

Quite an impressive degree. We have something that might interest you: a substantial sum will, of course, be provided. If you are interested, please respond and location details will be provided. Arrive at 2:00 next Sunday, with your belongings.

Signed, the Governor of Sherrinford.


	2. 1

Sera Baine stood still, her dark figure contrasting the blanket of gray cloud. The wind whipped at her dark hair and pristine black coat, animating her still frame. The blades of the helicopter slowed, the stifling hum of motion decaying alongside them.

Sera strode towards the aircraft, pulling a wheeled case behind her.

She was, of course, being erratic for overturning her life in response to an email, but if she wasn't insane, she wouldn't be any good at her job.

Ironic how she had been trained to start worrying if any of her patients began to exhibit that degree of recklessness.

A man opened the sleek helicopter door, offering an uncommonly pale hand to help the woman up, which she ignored. She hoisted the case up after her, collapsing lazily into the backseat. The two pilots shared a look but closed the door. "Ready to go Miss Baine?"

"Doctor," she said absentmindedly, strapping herself in.

The pilots didn't comment.

Sera peered out of the window as the expanse of concrete fell away, the details loosing their definition with the growing distance.

The woman tapped her fingers on her leg, the excitement growing as they passed over the cold, flat sea. Sherrinford. She'd done her research. And she was certain that what was waiting for her, would not disappoint.

Sera remained awake the whole journey, watching the plane of ocean pass beneath the helicopter, almost as if in a trance. It was when they finally touched the landing pad, that a childlike fervor began to stain her cheeks.

"You alright back there?" the pale pilot asked, leaning back. He had an uncommonly short expanse of neck, the skin of which seemed to hang over his brittle bones like cloth.

Sera didn't reply, instead, pushing the door open, her impractically tall heels sinking into the sand. They were cheap anyway. She surveyed the vast, dark building ahead of her, eventually settling on two uniformed figures that were making their way towards her.

"An escort," she smiled, pleased with herself to have earned two guards.

The pale pilot watched the woman from inside.

"You sure we picked up the right lady? What does that detective bloke say- I _deduce_ we've got another loony," he said in a pleasant, but hoarse voice, as he cuffed his colleague's ear.

"Agh, you tosser," the other grumbled, recoiling slightly but nevertheless continuing to fiddle with the blinking equipment.

Sera lifted her luggage, the wheels serving no purpose on the sandy beach as she reaches her little welcoming party. "Dr. Baine?"

Her lips twitched slightly with distaste.

 _No, sorry, I think you've got the wrong woman. I'm not Dr. Baine. No, no, I just wanted to pop by England's most heavily guarded prison to admire the scenery._

Sera's facial feature assumed a nervous gentleness. An ideal expression for the role she had decided on. And now began the theatrics: the taste of drama... A flavor that would become familiar on her tongue.

"Glad you got the "doctor" part right," she said, offering a shy grin.

The man didn't smile, but the small muscles on the side of his eyes relaxed slightly. _Good_ , Sera thought.

He turned. "This way," he said over one of his broad shoulders. His colleague moved in surprisingly accurate unison: from the length of the gait, to the swing and rotation of the shoulder cuffs, all was mirrored.

Sera tagged along behind them, making sure that when the case slipped from her hands a couple times: even this detail would end up playing in her favor. The pair did nothing to assist her, though she knew they had taken notice.

The doctor was led to an entrance made from thick steel, and most likely, given the setting, reinforced to be impervious to explosions.

The silent guard stepped up to enter a series of numbers into the access control system, next pressing one of his tanned thumbs against the scanner. Finally, he leaned down to murmur something that sounded like "regulus" into a hidden microphone and swiping a card. Sera raised her eyebrows. Four different security systems.

The entrance lurched before receding sideways, the alarms wailing. Sera followed suit as her little entourage of two ducked into a small but brightly lit room. At the other end of it, there was a metal detector framing the only doorway out. Two more guards came forward to take the case from her.

They lifted it onto a table with a clatter, and Sera narrowed her bright eyes and moved around the table, setting a curious expression on her face. She watched as they unzipped the case, flipping it open with a degree of carelessness that almost made her snatch it away from them, but, after an internal conflict, Sera managed to keep her face passive.

They snapped on rubber gloves, sifting through her belongings. One of the guards produced a bra, briefly making eye contact with the young woman: he had something like embarrassment painted on his features. She winked lazily. _Idiot_. _Use your eyes._

Once cleared, the original pair of guards took over, leading her through the metal detector. The chattier of the two lifted her case. "I'm bringing this to your quarters. Jones here'll show you to the Governor," he said, nodding at her and striding off. She had been wrong: that one had a bit of a limp. Sera raised her dark eyebrows as the remaining one set off at a quick pace, leaving her little choice but to follow.

The hallway opened into a large room: to the left of her, behind a sheet of glass, a man clad in a dark but expensive-looking suit sat at his desk, hunched over some papers. The general room was alive with staff, some of which were carrying sleek guns strapped over their shoulders.

The man, who still had yet to speak a word to the young woman, strode over to the glass doors, pulling one open. A blush tinged Sera's cheekbones: a trick that had taken some years to pick up. She had figured out how to concentrate watered-down emotion, blowing it so out of proportion that part of her subconscious mind was convinced the emotion was authentic. After all, she would tell herself, it's the details that act as the tipping factors. The subtle shading of a character is of paramount importance.

The governor, as Sera assumed, glanced up at her entrance. "Ah. Glad you decided to join us, Dr. Baine," at this he stood, making his way around the desk.

"I apologize about the email, but the vagueness is rather necessary..."

"Because," Sera finished for him, taking a seat without being asked. "The internet, even buried beneath passwords, is a public place."

The governor looked at her strangely.

She smiled demurely, resuming her character.

"Dr. Baine, I need you to realize that your work here is to remain entirely secret. You may not disclose your position to any friend, family member. No one outside of this island, no matter their significance. Not even other officials."

 _Why does a government-sanctioned prison feel the need to keep secrets from itself?_

"I - yeah, got it, but what, uh, what will it actually be that I'm doing here?" Sera asked, a minute tremor of nervousness slipping into her voice.

"We have, uh, well, that is to say, there is a certain prisoner in this facility, unique in every sense of the word. She is, to say the least, clinically extraordinary. A genius far beyond her lifetime."

"And you want me to perform a psychiatric evaluation?"

"Yes. Preferably more than a few: we would like to have a more long-term set of data on this one... That is to say, if you remain here."

The young woman's eyebrow twitched at this.

"I should warn you, we have sent two doctors in before you, but there have been... Complications," the governor ran a hand over his receding hairline.

"If you're going to warn me about something, you have to actually specify what it is," Sera said, cringing inwardly when her voice came out colder than she had intended.

"She has a-a way with words. The two doctors couldn't describe it, but both have resigned." he fidgeted with a fountain pen on his desk.

"So, manipulative?"

"It's, uh, a delicate situation. I'm afraid to say that I would only know to describe her as a... ah, psychopathic genius."

Sera shifted in her chair, her pulse tapping erratically within her skin.. She hadn't been wrong. No, not in the slightest. Sherrinford would certainly prove to be a good gamble.


	3. 2

Sera sat on her stiff bed, sifting through her papers. She had very quickly signed the form stating her awareness of the fact that, in short, if she told any external source about her work, she should expect to be imprisoned immediately. Apparently, the governor was taking precautions.

She stood, the springs of the bed rasping as she gathered her notebook and, though there was a perfectly competent watch strapped to her wrist, she didn't so much as glance at it. It didn't matter if she was early or late. Not in here. Sherrinford, affectionately titled as the literal and physical hell on Earth, seemed to have no regard for minutes and hours, for it was a world inside of a world: the most dangerous time capsule created.

The governor had said that she should begin her evaluations as soon as possible... _What was he had said?_ _No time like the present._ She shut the door behind her, the lock clicking into place automatically. Sera walked down the hall, florescent lights staining the back of her eyelids, leaving traces of violet images to overlap her vision.

She passed through the main room, swiping her newly acquired card in a slot beside the elevator. The light flashed green and the doors slid open. She stepped in, her dark heels clicking against the metal. As her view out into the main room was reduced to a splinter, pushed to fit between the steadily closing entrance, Sera had the uneasy feeling that the next time she passed through that room, it wouldn't be with the same eyes. _Ever the dramatic._

A bizarre sense of anticipation, however, quickly injected itself into the hollowness that had ironically begun to weigh down her mind.

The doors slid open to unveil a view starkly contrasting the main room: the end of the well-lit hallway branched into an open recess. Two guards adorned the sides of a formidable looking door. This place seemed to have an obsession with the pairing of guards: she had yet to see a flock of three, not a solitary watchdog to be found.

Sera stopped just before the door, the echo of her heels dying quickly, leaving a void of silence. She stood in the center of the space as a body scanner moved over her. The room flashed green and one of the guards jerked her head towards the door in silent affirmation.

As Sera neared the door, tendrils of sound, notes, curled themselves around her brain. It was a violin. The door hissed as it opened for her, and the young woman might have laughed at the drama of it all if she hadn't been so caught up in it herself.

She was greeted with silence as she entered, the music that had since ceased, hanging heavily in the air.

Sera took another step and the song resumed as if the pause had never occurred. Separated by a wall of glass, a woman dressed in stark white stood facing away: her inky black hair was a shocking contrast to the uniform. Her violin, a Stradivarius, was cradled against her neck as her finger danced and flashed across the humming strings. Sera had the strange impression that this violin was alive, capable of clawing at emotions and thoughts: an physical extension of its owner. A strange and ridiculous concept, but Sera's instincts had a tendency to be correct.

"Eurus, the east wind... bearer of bad luck," Sera mused, moving closer to the glass.

The violin music became low and sultry.

"Three time's the charm isn't it," the voice didn't match the body that turned to face Sera. Eurus Holmes' eyes were intent, unwavering, but her voice seemed to drift out of her lungs: it was distant.

Eurus placed the violin on the pristine bed before stepping up to the glass. The woman's frame was small, fragile, and if it hadn't been for what the governor had warned, Sera might have made the disastrous mistake of underestimating her.

"The human race has fabricated an emotional attachment to number three, to resemble the perfect number. Come closer to the glass."

Sera didn't move. The word's flowing from Eurus Homes' tongue reminded her of a performance, and yet, it was a performance with no audience. It was contradictory and maybe that was why Sera loved it so much.

Eurus watched the woman standing before her. A bored genius. The world was full of them. Filled with self-proclaimed, bored geniuses.

"You should be flattered. The other two before you were already talking at this point. Stay silent long enough, and people will act on their subconscious urge to fill it. Isn't it _terrible_? All these people filling up the world with their empty, empty words: saying everything except what matters. Step closer to the glass."

"And what is it that matters?" Sera asked, her voice taking on a passive edge in an attempt to bury the gleam in her eye.

"Hm. B+ question, David's getting better at picking the right people. Moving on. Come closer to the glass," her voice peaking at her last word.

This time, Sera did so: the fascination was weaving itself tightly around her. Yes, Eurus decided, this vessel of humanity would certainly provide her with a branch of satisfactory answers, but data is always incomplete without a range of sources. Sera Baine, she mused to herself, wouldn't be the last.

"You get the honors of being the first. Come closer... that's it." The sounds the woman made were disconnected, but Sera was no longer paying attention to those trivialities. She was no longer performing the psychiatric evaluation, it was being performed on her. And doing so completely inverted her instinctual tendencies and manners, but she couldn't help but let herself be drowned it the intoxicating effect.

Eurus moved her head to the side, her eyes still unnervingly pinpointing every movement of the woman before her. She brought her hand to her lips, kissing her fingertips and pressing them against the cold glass.

It felt strange to move, like her mind had been divided from her body, but Sera mirrored her. Her hand, which she hadn't until now noticed was trembling, came into contact with the surface of the pane.

"Look at that," Eurus said softly, something that looked suspiciously like wonder seeping into her expression, but Sera knew better. "Record timing... I think it's safe to say you're my second favorite."


	4. 3

( _Sera._ )

I lightly traced the palm of my own hand as I lay on the unfamiliar bed. My fingertips etched a whisper of a trail along the white scar tissue, outlining the shape. Scars. Optical memories worn on one's skin, like a moment in time tucked away under your own flesh.

I rolled over and switched out the light, swathing the room in a smothering darkness.

Unscrewing a bottle of sleeping pills, I forced down two tablets with a sip of water, the liquid moving thickly down my throat. Ever since the encounter with Eurus two days ago, a strange tangle of unease had rooted itself in my stomach. A maddening sense of claustrophobia had settled around me, incarcerating me in the cage of my own flesh.

 _'...it's safe to say you're my second favorite...'_ Who then, was the first? Even in my state of muteness, I had been able to come away from the experience with a few observations. Eurus Holmes was obviously a genius, and given her past record, highly manipulative, all of which was information the governor had already provided me. It was the tactics she used, however, which were much more interesting to me. Eurus had the unnerving ability to get under one's skin: she moved subliminally, testing and pinpointing the pressure points of a mind that didn't even have time to be aware of the fact. And maybe that's what attracted me the most.

It took the me an hour before I finally dipped into an empty sleep.

• • •

Tim McManus slid into a chair across from me, frowning down at his plate.

Tim had become one of my more likable acquaintances. We would catch each other in passing, as he was a one of Eurus' guards.

"I swear, if that woman plays one more Bach sonata, I'll jump of a cliff," he muttered darkly.

"That would be nice of you. What else is new."

Tim look at me oddly. "Well, the beds are hard, the food's getting worse-"

I cut him off with a pointed look. "Fascinating, but I have somewhere else I'd rather be," I said airily. Tim was one of the few people who had, for some reason, put up with my ill-manners and abusive comments. I knew I would never express my gratification of this to him out loud, but I had a feeling he knew already.

I shifted in my metal chair, easily devouring the breakfast, which was surprisingly good for prison food. I stood once I had finished, nodding towards Tim as a farewell, before dumping the tray into a bin.

My desire to escape being seen alone in crowded areas, even for a moment, was less about a fear of being the odd one out. No, I'd long since learned to live with that. But the sight of a solitary figure was like an irresistible lure for well-wishing socialites, who, hungry for a chance to prove their virtues, took it upon themselves to demonstrate their kindness by taking said solitary figure under their wing. Said solitary figure being me, in this instance.

I took a smug satisfaction in depriving them of their little social fix.

I briefly stopped by my room to gather my papers and splash a little water on my face, before making my way to Eurus' prison inside of a prison. There was something intoxicating about the woman, something that was reminiscent of a competition, but one that was extremely one-sided. It was like I needed to claw my way up a scale of intellectuality, not just to keep Eurus interested, though that was undoubtedly part of it, but to have the personal gratification of simply knowing I could keep up.

Keeping Eurus Holmes occupied was a compliment of the highest degree.

"Back again?"

I glanced over at Tim who had a warm smile on his face. He must've gotten there while I was in my room. Still, a quick walker.

I raised an eyebrow, a genuine smile threatening to tug at my lips. "I mean it _is_ what I'm getting paid for," I said, though my attention was quickly draining from the words coming from my mouth. As soon as I had stepped into that room, it was no longer about the job. In hindsight, I didn't need my papers. Because I was no longer evaluating, I was interacting. Trying not to sink in a game of who could top the other.

Tim shrugged. "Gov went in there earlier today. Came out looking pretty shaken up," he mused.

I didn't reply, only clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth as a sign that I'd heard heard him. I pushed the door, smiling drily at the hiss I'd become familiar with. It was like my own little inside joke. An inside joke with myself.

"Stress."

Eurus sat, kneeling on the floor. The motion sensor went off as soon as I entered the room, replacing the eerie green lighting with bright white.

"Stress... it's the name humans have given to define the response a mind displays in reaction to situational pressure and tension. By utilizing it, our adaptability is... Demonstrated. It's both constructive and destructive," I responded carefully, internally pleased that I hadn't missed a beat. Though still hard to predict, I was beginning to distinguish how Eurus wanted me to respond.

"Oh good!" Eurus clapped her hands together, moving towards the glass. I faintly registered a hissing sound, but I paid no attention to it.

"Good and evil?"

"Essential to the existence of the other. In order to do good, one must do evil. It's just a matter of minimizing the evil."

Eurus Holme's face seemed to darken at my response. I'd messed up, but this time there was something different in her tone of voice. "No, no, no, you got that one wrong... never mind, we'll just focus on the other one for now."

I arched my brow at this, the sense of unease growing. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement in the reflection of the glass. A figure loomed behind me and I whipped around, my pulse jumping erratically. Before I could move to evade man, he pinned me to the wall, grabbing a fistful of hair and exposing my neck. There was a brief prick as a needle slipped easily into my skin.

I struggled, my limbs already leadened from whatever drug was now seeping into my system. Most of my resistance, was, however, largely futile, as my attacker obviously had combative training, whereas I possessed none. I looked up wildly, my first instinct to check if the surveillance camera was on. The blinking red light had gone dark. I resisted the pull of sleep that was tugging at my body, but my efforts were becoming more and more labored. Somehow, in the haze of everything, I'd fallen to my knees, but my mind briefly registering that, for the sake of my own dignity, I couldn't let myself go without a backlash.

So, with a final wave of effort, I elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. He doubled over, gasping. I lifted my arm, which was shivering uncontrollably, and punched him across the face. It was sloppy, an not a very good effort, but at least it was something.

With that, the effects of the drug seemed to spike, surging through my veins, and I finally hit the ground, the room seeming to reverberate from the impact. Everything felt slowed down. I wanted to throw up. The edge of my vision seemed to be closing in on itself. How funny bodily functions are, betraying one's own mind... I turned my head, forcing myself to sit up, but my body was no longer answering to my brain and I hit the ground again. Eurus was watching me curiously, her eyes blank. Fucker.

My eyes traveled languidly towards my assailant, all motivation to move steadily flowing from me. Any reserve I'd built up, willing myself to stay awake, flickered into darkness at that moment.

Tim.


End file.
